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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29558301">The Servitor King</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BepisPerfected/pseuds/BepisPerfected'>BepisPerfected</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fallen | Eliksni, Lightless Guardian (Destiny)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:20:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>979</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29558301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BepisPerfected/pseuds/BepisPerfected</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Guardian confronts an ether Baron and discusses the similarities between their people.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Servitor King</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>    Two tall Captains dragged the Guardian by his arms across the bare metal floor, their legs cutting through the dense fog like knives. He had no strength to fight them, they had taken that from him.  Finally, they stopped and threw their captive hard onto the ground. The heavy gas was so thick on the floor the human could not even see his hands. Painstakingly, he got to his feet so he stood above the worst of it, but there was no air in this chamber. Were it not for his helmet’s rebreather, he would have suffocated.</p><p>    The other side of the room was dominated by the throne of Elyriks, the self-proclaimed Servitor King. Even hunched in his chair, his pseudo-mechanical body towered over the guardian’s. Hoses pulsed across his armor, intertwining with his cybernetic limbs and armor like burrowing maggots. His four pale eyes studied his captive with silent contempt as he idly clacked his jaws together. In the darkness around his throne, four deep purple orbs hovered just out of view, dull noise giving away their position as they studied their captive.</p><p>    Slowly the Servitor King rose, spreading out all six of his arms to put them on display. The Guardian had heard the stories of the massive Fallen, but bearing witness to his size in person was infinitely more terrifying. The King’s chest plate was made from the face of a dead walker tank, the flairs of his shoulders salvaged from the wreckage of a skiff. Of the four tubes that draped off his helmet, each one was large enough for a small child to crawl through. The two stories of living malice looked down and chuckled, his deep voice booming through the chamber and sending ripples through the cold glowing pools of ether on either side of the room.</p><p>    “Barjjjas sel irikks wo fuosos halaaknis.” He chattered. “You are not the first to seek me… You will not be the last…”</p><p>    The Guardian grunted in response.</p><p>    “Vo uus, tilraan helleknsipis. Veleminiks sel kusa.” The King continued. “Each had their reason… As must you.”</p><p>    “You need to be stopped. You are dangerous.”</p><p>    He laughed heartily, enough to shake the chamber. “I refuse to be anything else! Paas fensiik golrasveek!”</p><p>    The servitors bleeped in agreement.</p><p>    “Only one of us will live to see tomorrow, Elyriks, and it won’t be you.”</p><p>    “Jourkeyna phastalinnis. I doubt that.” He spread his arms to gesture to the fog. “Pathetic Light, you are… out of your depth. Pavaks sel havisk gol suurah. Can you not see the ether that shields me?”</p><p>    “I see stolen gas and greed.”</p><p>    “Stolen? No, you are… mistaken.” He chuckled again. “Rol varjis elkuls koremseleks himiness veraks. All you see is mine alone. I am the King of Servitors. I maintain them… I feed them… I protect them. My crew scour the ruins and detritus of your world and present it to them. In return… we are granted a wealth of ether. Wo mel gafaas. We may breathe… deeply, and without concern.”</p><p>    “You slaughter innocent people.”</p><p>    He waved a hand as if to dismiss the question. “Good ether requires… organic material. Kruesemu varaas melinks. Plants can only grant us so much.”</p><p>    “You are needlessly cruel.”</p><p>    “No, I am needlessly rich!” The King roared.</p><p>    Gallons of ether spewed out of the vents of his armor, cloaking his massive bulk in a thick freezing cloud. The Guardian took a step back to prevent himself from being enveloped by the swirling fog, though before he could take another a huge hand shot out and grabbed him. It nearly covered his entire torso and easily lifted him off the floor. His three huge fingers wrapped around the Guardian, slowly crushing him in an ever tightening grip as his snarling face appeared in the cloud.</p><p>    “Other Eliksni may be content to sit on a horde of glints or herealways. They will starve and rot. Innj korvaraas sekinks wanah enkeleks. My horde is… intangible. It cannot be held. I am wealthy in a way that only my people can understand. Through my work alone, I have become rich in life!”</p><p>    “You kill and you steal, like all Fallen. You will die the same.”</p><p>    He growled, blowing a puff of ether in the Guardian’s face. “Is that what you think of me? Humans killed thousands of my people. Humans stole our Great Machine. Butchers and thieves, the same. Yet I am a villain, for wanting to breathe…”</p><p>    “You cannot justify murder.”</p><p>    “And you can? You came here to kill me, yes?”</p><p>    “Do not twist this on me.”</p><p>    He burbled quietly. “Selveks paas voluen. You call us Fallen. Once great… now Fallen. We may not like to admit it, but this name suits us. At least for now.”</p><p>    “Whatever you are planning, it’s not going to happen.”</p><p>    “Vah Jassisks. Your mind thinks of only one thing. Remember, broken Light, many have sought to kill me before.”</p><p>    “I will succeed.”</p><p>    The Fallen snorted, clearly amused. “Heroic to the end.”</p><p>    As he spoke, doors and ports opened up around the chamber. Servitors of various types poured in and surrounded their King’s feet. At least two dozen of the machines gathered above the pools of ether, with plenty more hovering along the walls.</p><p>    “My servitors are many; this is but a fraction of those I own. I will continue to feed them until they produce enough ether to blanket the Last City. Then Humans will finally understand… that it is a privilege to breathe. I will start with you.”</p><p>    Another mechanical hand shot out of the cloud and tore the Guardian’s helmet off as Elyriks dropped him. Ether flowed out of the servitors, quickly filling the room to the brim as they set upon their victim. The Servitor King took off his own respirator and inhaled deeply.</p><p>    “Breathe, beaten Light! Breathe and be consumed! You are only the beginning!”</p><p> </p>
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